


Warm me up, Shumai

by Ignis_Dreams



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Bisexual Saihara Shuichi, Body Image, Bottom Oma Kokichi, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lovey-Dovey, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Sharing Body Heat, Sleepy Cuddles, Song Lyrics, Top Saihara Shuichi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 09:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17485745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ignis_Dreams/pseuds/Ignis_Dreams
Summary: That low, husky voice Saihara had at the moment drove him crazy. The heat between the two of them at the moment could drive out any kind of cold from the outside."You really know how to inspect bodies, don't you Shumai?"





	1. Aesthetic? (More like Ass Pathetic)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I'm being an Oumasai fanboy again.
> 
> I tried to make fluff but it turned into smut

 

 

 

 

 

> _Arms, legs, gut, face_
> 
> _All of the things you love and I hate_

Saihara grazed his long fingers through Ouma's silky purple hair, something that always seemed to soothe the other boy. The smaller one of the two always enjoyed nestling himself in Saihara's chest or the crook of his neck, leeching off his usual furnace-like warmth. Today, he had chosen Saihara's neck. 

Sun glistened through the small gaps in the blinds, light outlining the two pale bodies under blankets. The lovers had been shielding themselves from the bitter cold, mostly Ouma. Saihara pecked his forehead with a small kiss, wrapping his arms around the small boy and allowing him to return to his previous spot nestled in the crook of his neck. Small, pure affectionate moments like these made Saihara's day. Waking up next to someone he loved, being able to sheild each other from the bitter cold. 

How could he resist?

Checking the clock facing him on the windowsil, it was around 7:30 am. It was a Sunday though, so they'd be able to just enjoy each other's company for that day, ideally. Saihara knew the other boy got cold very easily, so he had given Kokichi one of his long sleeve shirts. Though it was oversized, the detective thought it looked adorable on the other boy, and would provide him some extra warmth. Plus, he already liked the sweater.

Yet, the small boy knew he would have it get up soon, as he needed to use the bathroom. As the boy tried up and out of the covers, Saihara whined like a petulant child, but eventually let Ouma go. The detective had always been so affectionate towards him, treated him like a prince. Ouma would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it though. He had even called him his prince before as a pet name.

The purple-haired boy stumbled over to the bathroom, almost tripping over clothes that had been discarded the night before. As he entered, he caught side of himself. Baggy undereyes along with Saihara's shirt, which he always tended to steal from him, though Saihara had given it to him last night. A few small bruises trailed down his neck and onto his shoulder, presumably from his lover from their passionate evening. He didn't mind his hair and face too much, though a few aspects bothered him. Yet, when he looked down at his arms when he rolled up the shirt's sleeves, they bothered him. He felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach as he traced along old scars, feeling disgusted by his previous actions. The fat on his arms bugged him as well, though he was considered underweight. His hands traced across his stomach and torso, despising everything about it, even from under that baggy shirt. His mostly exposed legs bothered him as well, he felt there was too much fat on those as well, though Saihara absolutely adored them.

Ouma just wanted to crawl out of his skin sometimes and move somewhere else, not burdened by his own, scarred flesh. He had tried before, but failed. The lengthy trip to the hospital was not a good experience, but Saihara being there to help him made him feel a bit better. But he could see the never ending concern he had for Ouma, as he would almost never leave his side when he could come to visit. 

Looking away from the mirror, he quickly finished up in the bathroom, hating every minute of knowing how disgusting he felt. 

He easily was able to crawl back into bed, hiding under the large comforter. He laid beside Saihara, clinging onto him like his life depended on it. But the long time he took didn't go unnoticed. 

"You were nitpicking again, weren't you?" 

That's what Saihara called it whenever he would stand in front of the mirror and relay what he hated about himself. Ouma gritted his teeth and reluctantly nodded. The detective sighed, placing a hand on the other's back.

"Your sleeves were rolled up." Saihara pointed out, which in turn, made Ouma swiftly pull them back down, making it so the sweatshirt even covered a bit of his hands. 

"We've talked about this before, Kokichi. You need to stop doing that," Concern along with a bit of disappointment laced Saihara's words.

"I've been trying," Ouma replied, pushing half his face into the bed. He felt absolutely horrible at the moment, "I can't really help it."

"I know love, I just want you to see what I do, alright?" 

Ouma nodded, his head still half pressed into a pillow.

"Kokichi, you know I love you right? I hate seeing you loathe yourself like this," Saihara lifted the boy's head to face him and looked him directly in the eyes, something he usually had trouble doing with other people. Ouma always got lost in those honey golden eyes of his.

"You're beautiful." The detective muttered out, going back over the small bruises he had made the night before with his mouth. This made Ouma shudder a little, as they were still sensitive. All he got in reply to this shutter was a smug grin, as the detective moved his hands lower on Ouma's body, "I've always loved the little bit of gut you have, it's cute."

Saihara's hands moved to his arms, something Ouma especially hated, "It hurts me to see those scars, but I love when you wrap these arms around my neck, hands in my hair."

Ouma whimpered as hands drifted down his arm, going across each dent, "Tell me I do something you don't like, alright?" 

The supreme leader nodded in reply, allowing himself to be putty in the others hands as he moved lower. Soon enough, his mouth reached his lover's as they shared a chaste kiss, one of the detective's hands placed on the smaller's face.

"You really know how to inspect bodies, don't you Shumai?" Ouma muttered into Saihara's ear. 

"It's my specialty," Saihara replied, returning to the lower half of Ouma's body. A warm hand went up the boys shirt, grazing his sides once again. Yet, Saihara gently placed Ouma on top of him, hands moving to the boy's back to trace patterns on it. This, usually, would relax the boy to no ends. Today's was no different.

The boy's hands grazed lower, resting on Ouma's backside. 

"You already know how much I love this part of you." Saihara chuckled, moving on to Ouma's inner thighs. The smaller boy buckled under the touch, letting out a small sigh. His head clouded a bit under Saihara's gentle touch. This was one of the most sensitive parts of Ouma's body, and Saihara, knowing full well took advantage of that a bit, making small, circular shapes. Kokichi squirmed, not sure whether or not he loved this or absolutely despised it.

"Holding up alright there?" 

Saihara had always made sure to check up on Ouma at times like these, knowing he could be a little less vocal at times, especially when he was overwhelmed.  

"You're good with your hands, my beloved Shuichi," Ouma admitted, pressing one of his hands down on Saihara's chest, panting. His eyes looked dazed as he felt like he was on cloud nine, soaking up the praise. 

"Good boy, leaning into my hand like that.." 

That pet name always tended to drive Ouma crazy. The loved the praise he was getting right now for his normal, bodily reactions. How was the detective's making him feel so good with simple words. He was already a beet red mess.

Saihara's hands moved down further into Ouma's calves, rubbing his hand up and down, "You have such nice legs Ouma, I'm glad I'm the only one who gets to see them up close and personal. All mine.."

Ouma shook under Shuichi's words and hands, feeling a whole new heat rise in his stomach. Fuzzy, lightheadedness. Saihara, seeing this, gently placed Ouma under him again. A long, nimble hand moved up in-between Ouma's legs. He squeaked a bit under this, the warmth intensifying.

"Someone's a little excited, isn't he?" 

Ouma shook his head, face flushed, "No.."

Saihara chuckled, allowing himself to place his other hand in Ouma's hair again, "No need to be embarassed, I've seen you in a much more.. heated state. We talked about being more honest with yourself.." 

That low, husky voice Saihara had at the moment drove him crazy. The heat between the two of them at the moment could drive out any kind of cold from the outside.

"Warm me up, Shumai."

 It seemed Ouma's words drove Saihara crazy as well, as he started tackling the boy's neck with more hickeys as soon as he got the ok to. Ouma didn't mind this, as his neck was usually covered up by his bandana. Saihara was the one usually leaving the marks, though Ouma tended to act more possessive of him. He wanted some level of control over Saihara.

The detective seemingly inspected the bruises and continued on until he was satisfied with his work. 

"Fuck, you're too pretty Kokichi," Saihara moaned out, slowly lifting his shirt off from Kokichi's body. The smaller boy whimpered, feeling a small, cold breeze. His boxers were quickly removed as well, discarded onto the floor in the pile from the night before

The detective stared in awe of the pale boy's form, dazed in admiration. This in turn, causing Ouma to snap a few times.

"You're forgetting something Mr. Detective~! You're still fully clothed over there." 

Saihara quickly got to work on his own shirt, lifting it up and over his head. Ouma was quick to try to grab at the boy's pants, throwing them aside, leaving Saihara only in his boxers, moving his mouth to Kokichi's inner thigh. Ouma let out a high pitched moan as the detective bit into his thigh, leaving bruises trailing down to his knee. For some reason, Saihara loved marking up Ouma. Leaving a sign of his presence on his body. 

"Sh-Shumai!" Ouma tried to muffle himself with his hand, though sound still escaped. The blue-haired boy really knew how to get Ouma worked up. He stood up and discarded his boxers, shuddering with anticipation as well, "Are you, excited Mr. Saihara?" He asked, that same smug grin on his face. Almost as if he hadn't been moaning a second ago due to Saihara's touch. As if he hadn't just nitpicked his body in the mirror recently. 

Saihara was quick to climb on top of Ouma, reaching to grab the usual lube and condoms. Both of them hated the cleanup without one. But, to Saihara's suprise, Ouma snatched the box of condoms from him. 

"I want to try without one." 

"Are you sure?" Saihara looked Ouma in the eye. He wanted to make sure he was alright with this, and not just saying that to make Saihara happy somehow.

"Yup! I want Shumai to come inside, make me feel really good.." Ouma muttered out in a big of a teasing tone, it was hard for Saihara to distinguish whether or not he was being truthful.

"Honest?"

"Honest."

Saihara nodded his head, proceeding to pop open the bottle of lube. He lubed up one  fiof hisngers, pushing it into Ouma's entrance. 

The supreme leader shoved his adventures back into the mattress, holding back his moans. His face was getting redder by the second. He was more honest with his reactions today. When Saihara added another finger in, he finally let it out, that voice he had held back.

"Nhng-"

Ouma was an absolute mess in comparison to his usual cocky and composed persona. Something only Saihara really got to see. But, the detective had to make sure Ouma was alright.

"Any pain?" 

"Nope!" Ouma replied, trying to pull of a cheery, excited look. But the red on his face told all, he was enjoying every second of this. Feeling bold, the detective slipped in a third. Ouma, in turn, gripped onto the sheets like his life depended on it, breath heavier than ever before. Only a few low hums of pleasure were heard from the purple haired boy as Saihara began to move his fingers, curling them around Ouma's spot. The supreme leader pushed his face into the pillow again, in an attempt to muffle his moans. Saihara removed his three fingers, causing another gasp from Ouma. 

The detective lined himself up, lightly pressing against Ouma's entrance. 

"What are you waiting for, Shumai?" Ouma asked, those lustful eyes and heavy breathing sent him over the edge as he burried himself into Ouma. Small arms quickly wrapped around him like their life depended on it as Saihara pushed in deeper. Nails dug into his back, searching for any type of grip they could latch onto. Ouma, much like him, would need to get used to the sensation of the other. Yet, once the detective felt confident enough, he began to thrust back and forth, hitting that spot inside of Ouma that made him explode with all kinds of noises that got the taller boy worked up.

As much as the smaller boy loved having power, letting himself melt into Saihara was the hottest thing he could think of, mind cloudy with pleasure.

 It was evident both of them wouldn't last much longer. 

"Shumai~! Come inside me!" 

Saihara finished of with a hard thrust, releasing thick, white fluid into Ouma, the smaller boy following soon after. He loved the feeling of being filled up like this, especially since it was his lover. Yet, he had made quite a mess of himself when he had come, leaving white scattered all over his chest. 

 

The two stayed where they were for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow. Looking at each other's watery eyes. The light outline their pale bodies. 

Yet, they did eventually seperate, Saihara pulling out, along with Ouma sitting straight, face still flushed. Saihara sat beside him, leaning against the headboard to allow Ouma to lay in his lap. Those same, nible long fingers ran through his purple hair, bringing him down from his intense state. 

"We're going to have to clean you up," Saihara continued on ruffling Ouma's hair. 

"Yup! You're gonna have to clean up every inch of me, Shu-chan.."


	2. I Killed an Arbor Day for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could not help myself. 
> 
> I need to fanboy more
> 
> I need to compensate for my loneliness
> 
> Help, I may never get out of this pit
> 
>  
> 
> It might seem a bit rushed tbh

Once again, it seemed Ouma would be getting royalty treatment from his boyfriend. 

Shuichi had left the bed to run a bath, while Ouma waited under their heavy blankets. Yet, Ouma's warmth under the covers was easily inturupted by a familiar voice. 

"Do you want me to carry you?" 

Ever since Saihara had tried it once and succeeded when Ouma was especially tired, he insisted on being carried whenever he had a reason, no matter how dumb. So, it had become expected from Ouma. 

The purple haired boy simply nodded, holding his arms out as Saihara lifted him up and let his chin rest on his shoulder while one arm acted as a ledge for Ouma to sit on. Almost as if he was carrying a child. 

Yet, this proximity would soon be broken when the blue-haired boy placed the leader on the tile floor as he went to shut the tap off. He was glad to still be sitting, as he couldn't view the mirror. The detective took a quick test of the water, and did not seem to pull away, indicating to Ouma he could climb in. 

He was quick to sit and get used to the hot water. It soothed him, almost made him want to fall asleep. Yet, the abscense of his lover with him bothered him. After all, he was supposed to be the one getting treated like a prince. 

"Shumai, do you intend on making me wait here all alone? I thought you were the one cleaning me up.." he asked in his usual teasing tone. Yet, his request did not go unheard. Saihara easily slipped into the bathtub after him, Ouma giving him that cheeky smirk of his. 

Ouma quickly clung onto Saihara, looking up to him with puppy dog eyes.

"Let's just relax a little, my beloved. We've both worked ourselves a little, haven't we?" 

Saihara blushed a little at the statement, but simply let himself sink into the tub a bit along with Ouma. 

The two sat there for awhile before Ouma began to grow a bit bored, and whined a little.

"Wash my hair?"

Saihara nodded, going to drain the tub. A certain something told the two they may not want to use the water they just sat in to be used for Ouma's hair. 

While Saihara got out, presumably to get a towel for Ouma afterwards, the smaller boy just sat there, watching the water go down the drain. He had gone into an almost starstruck daze as he watched all the spiraling water dissapear into the void. 

His head shot up when he heard the door reopen, Saihara standing in it, now partly clothed. Just a shirt and his boxers. 

"Aww, you're not fun, Shumai! Had to get dressed without me.."

Saihara merely gave off a chuckle, indulging in Ouma's bratty behavior. Saihara easily detached the shower head, something Ouma was a bit envious of. He made sure not to spook Ouma when he turned on the shower head and started to work on Ouma's hair, combing his fingers through it. 

"Want to talk about what happened earlier?" Saiahra asked, continuing to soak Ouma's hair.

"Which part?" 

Saihara was surprised at Ouma's straightforward approach, rather than his beat-around-the-bush-and-hope-he-gives-up method.

The cap of a shampoo bottle snapped open as the detective poured a bit onto his hand, lathering it into the smaller boy's scalp.

"The mirror part."

This was another way of Saihara phrasing Ouma starting in the mirror and picking out his flaws.

"What is there to say about it really, I'm fine now. There's no need for my beloved to worry." The boy plainly stated, gripping onto one of his legs. 

Saihara turned on the shower head again, rinsing off any excess shampoo, and once again, combing through Ouma's hair with his fingers.

"I am still worried. It's been getting worse as of latley," Saihara mentioned as he reached for the towel beside him, getting rid of any water still remaining.

"I know. Things are bad and I can't help them," Ouma admitted, a slight tinge of irritation in his voice, "I'm still stuck in the mindset I had awhile ago." 

The blue haired boy placed the towel around Ouma's shoulders, seeing as his work was done. 

"Let's continue this talk after you've gotten dressed, alright?"

Ouma nodded, looking over at the pile of clothes Saihara had left him, most prominently, his checkered bandana. He longed for the previous warmth he had while in the water or having his hair washed. Yet, clothes would be his compromise. 

Yet, right when he was about to put his scarf on, he caught a glimpse of his neck in the mirrior. There was a large streak of red and purple, presumably hickeys from the encounter he had not even an hour ago. He stared for awhile, tracing them. Gazed in awe. He liked the reminder Saihara had been there for some reason.

They distracted him from everything else.

Realizing he had been standing there, looking at the hickeys for quite awhile, he rushed to put his scarf overtop the shirt Saihara had lent him.

He saw a hair elastic on the counter, probably one that he had left laying around. Ouma tied his hair back, still leaving the front untouched. 

He opened the door to Shuichi's room without looking in the mirror again.

* * *

 

Saihara was there, cross legged on his bed waiting for Ouma. The smaller boy easily crawled into his lap and laid against him, taking a deep breath in. He knew there was a serious talk coming. 

"What can I do to help you?" 

It was a rather straightforward question Ouma didn't know how to answer. Sure, Saihara's praise of his body had helped a bit, expressing how much he loved every curve of it but it wasn't a long term solution. 

"I don't know." Ouma plainly replied. 

"Maybe you could vent to me a little? Tell me how it started or when? It might help get a few things off your chest if you need to get it out there." 

Ouma thought about it for a few seconds, then gave Saihara a nod. He took a few deep breaths, though Saihara urged him to take his time. Ouma's breathing stifled a few times as he tried to put together his words, but eventually he spit it out.

"The last relationship I was in was hell, that's why I hate my body so much. They would place me in front a mirror and make me pick out all my flaws, every single stretch mark, old and new scars, every inch of body fat. It's a habit that's just persisted. They'd remind me that's why he was the best I could get. Then..."

It seemed Ouma wanted to stop there. It was obviously an unpleasant experience. He even tried to keep.the person's gender a secret until that last slip of 'he'. Saihara hushed him  and began to run his fingers down the smaller boy's back.

"Hey, you're here now. You made it through that. I don't understand how anyone could do something like that to anybody."

Ouma planted his head into Saihara's chest, still not showing any tears. He had used all his might into holding them back, no matter how much he wanted to just sob.

"That wasn't the worst of it. He'd tell me it was beautiful when I was in pain like that. Emotional turmoil. Some absolute bullshit of the vulnerability of humanity. He said he wanted to see the blood-" 

Ouma's voice cut off.

Saihara continued in his attempt to provide comfort to Ouma, tracing familiar circles on his back as he clung onto Saihara's shirt.

"Kokichi, you don't need to talk any more than you want to, alright? I will never force you into something I know you don't want."

The two rested there for a bit, Saiahra guiding the purple haired boy with his own breathing, hold for four, out for eight.

That helped Ouma calm down a bit, though it had taken an emotional toll to speak of his experiences. 

"Thank you.."

Ouma was shocked by Saihara, of the two of them was the one thanking the other. 

"It takes a lot of trust to tell someone of something like that, I'm glad you have that trust in me. But, I have just one thing I'd like for you to try, alright?"

Ouma nodded his head, focusing his complete attention on Saihara.

"Whenever you find yourself looking in the mirror again, I want you to pick out three things you like about yourself. It can be things I've told you, it doesn't even need to be your body. It's something to try out and like I said, you don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

_Three things, huh?_

Ouma, as he did previously, thought on it a bit. It sounded a bit daunting to him in all honesty. 

"Well Mr. Detective, no promises!" He replied, turning on his happier persona.

Saihara still seemed a bit worried about him as he bit the sides of his cheeks. The genuine worry in his eyes began to sink in. Ouma knelt up to get on Saihara's level and spoke once more.

"Really. You don't need to worry." 

 "I know that's but I'm going to. I care about you and worry just tends to come with that." 

Saihara was right. If you care about a person's well being, you're going to worry for their well being. Ouma quickly hugged his partner, placing his head on-top Saihara's shoulder, it's usual place. 

"Hey, those hickeys. They don't hurt, right?" Saihara asked, looking directly at Ouma's neck, a tiny spot where the outline of one of the bruises could be seen. 

"Nope! Not yet at least." 

Ouma heard an audible sigh of relief once he finished his sentence from the taller boy. 

"Good, I don't want to hurt you in any way..." 

God, that protective, but not overbearing tone, made Ouma feel at home. Knowing his partner didn't wish any harm on him, knowing he wouldn't inflict any on purpose. 

From one second to the next, Ouma scurried out of Saihara's arms and under the covers, wanting to warm up a bit more. Saihara slowly, but surely joined him under the covers, regaining their earlier with each other's arms wrapped around the other. Even if it was broad daylight on a Sunday, sleeping for the rest of the day sounded appealing to both of them. Light pecks on the cheek accompanied their sleepy state as the two began to drift off.

Then Saihara's phone went off. Ouma insisted for him to stay in bed and ignore it, but when the calls persisted he finally picked the phone up. 

"Hello? Oh uh, not in particular, why?" 

Saihara stopped there for a second eyes filled with an unsure emotion. He sighed, that unsurety now becoming a bit of upset.

"Yeah, I'll come in. He had the afternoon shift right?" 

The taller boy hung up the phone after presumably getting confirmation, sitting on the edge of the bed. Ouma crawled up to him, hugging him from behind as he often did. 

"Did they call you into work again?"

Saihara nodded, "Somebody called in when they were supposed to be handling a few things. Something about sorting files."

Saihara had been stuck working this job for awhile. With his title as the Ultimate Detective, you'd assume he was in a better position at his law office, which, for the majority of the time he was, but he would often come in for shifts that had been dropped last minute. Mostly the grunt work. 

Checking the clock, he had about an hour to get ready before heading out. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't put off the day for you like I promised. I know you've been wanting me to stay home a bit more." 

Ouma simply nodded, "It's understandable, Shumai~! A man like you had a busy job, breadwinner and all." 

Saihara chuckled a bit, giving Ouma his usual kiss on the forehead. The purple-haired boy smiled, though he was upset he wouldn't be able to just spend the day with Shuichi laying in bed, cuddling. But at least he had him for the first half. 

* * *

Saihara arrived at the office and was quickly directed to where he needed to be. Walls upon walls of files taunted him. He knew this was going to be a long day. 

"Luckily, you won't be working alone. Someone else should be here to help you soon." His coworker informed him in a quiet tone.

The blue-haired boy let out a sigh of relief when he heard this. The daunting amount of files to sort would be hard to do alone. Once his long-haired coworker left, he figured he would get a head start on things. Starting at the bottom of the leftmost cabinet, he began to check the corresponding names, placing the earliest letters near the front. Shuffling through each, he only saw maybe one familiar name. A little girl who had gone missing earlier that year. Apparently she ran away from home after her parents forced her into unpleasant things. 

It seemed once Saihara had finished up with the drawer he had been working on, his familiar green-haired co-worker walked in.

"Getting started without me, Saihara?" 

Amami opened a cabinet, and started sorting the files in a similar fashion to Saihara. 

"I thought I was going to be working with someone I didn't know from the office today. Seems they called in." Amami admitted, looking to the other man, "Glad to see a familiar face."

"I assumed you would be travelling the world again by now." 

"Plans change. I decided to take a little break from travelling. How are things with you and Ouma? I caught wind that you guys got together."

Saihara smiled. They were rather open about their relationship, so it was no surprise Amami would have caught wind of it.

"About a year now. Things are going well actually. Few things here and there but otherwise it's good." Saihara stated, a bit of a cheery tone in his voice. His face seemed to lighten up when he spoke of his relationship. 

"Wow, I would have never seen you two getting together. Sure, Ouma liked to tease you a lot back at Hope's Peak, but based on your reactions, never would have seen it coming," Amami closed the drawer he had been sorting, moving onto a lower one, "Though I guess some people might have not seen Kaede and I getting together. Or, the least likely thing anyone could have expected, Iruma and Shirogane."

Saihara looked shocked at the last statement. Iruma and Shirogane got together? Sure, the cosplayer would ask Iruma to help model for her, but he never knew they were in a relationship, "How did that happen?"

"In all honesty, I don't know." 

Saihara chuckled a bit at the statement and continuing to sort another drawer, reminiscing on past high school memories. 

"It's weird to think how much some of our lives have changed. Three of us ended up working at the same place, Yumeno moved to The United States to pursue her career, Chasibara, of course going along with her, Momota's in _space_ , though that's not a surprise. Hard to keep in contact." 

Saihara thought on that for a minute. From what he knew, only him and Amami had ever worked here. Even so, Amami was a casual. He only took shifts when he needed to save up. Though his parents are rich, they stopped fully funding his expositions, asking him to pay at least half the price thereon out. Thus, he picked up this job. But a third person?

"Wait, I thought it was only you and I who worked here?"

"Oh, that's odd," Amami commented, "I could've sworn I saw Shinjuji here earlier. He might be been here for a different reason." 

The adventurer stopped for a second, eyes wide. He slowly pulled out a file, and handed it to Saihara.

"I know these are confidential documents, but you might want to read this one since, you know.." 

Saihara looked at the name tagged into the file.

_Ouma, Kokichi_

He wasn't too surprised. Ouma was notorious for getting himself into trouble, but the file seemed to lack the light feel of petty crimes. He felt as if there was something that was hidden from him held in this file. 

He took a deep breath in.

_I need to see this, right? I'll be able to help him out if I read it..._

Taking in another breath of courage...

He gave the file back to Amami, who looked confused at his actions.

"If Kokichi has some type of criminal past beyond D.I.C.E, I'm not going to peek on that behind his back. If he wants me to know, he'll tell me about it." Saihara explained, heading back to his original task. Amami nodded, understanding his reasoning. He slipped the file in its proper spot, following suit.

* * *

Ouma sat on Saihara's, well, now their couch. The TV played aimlessly in the background as Ouma stared outside, watching the raindrops begin to pound down. He picked at the skin near his thumb, as it had begun to bother him. Yet, when the skin peeled back more than he expected, he found himself with a bloody thumb. Heading to the bathroom, he started to run it under cold water, hoping the bleeding would stop. He just focused on his hand. He didn't want to look in the mirror. 

_I could try what Saihara suggested.._

It wouldn't hurt to try, really. Worst come to worst, he can turn away from the mirror and just sleep it off. 

Ouma turned off the tap. 

He looked himself directly in the eyes when he looked in the mirror, not daring to delve below his shoulders. He just needed to start small. 

Saihara had always told him he had beautiful eyes. He could see that, though they seemed a bit dull to him. An ugly shade of purple. They weren't the worst thing in the world though. 

Yet, when his eyes moved back down to his neck again, he felt that same warm feeling he had before. His fingers traced the red bruises, his breath stifling. Partly from the pain and then a second part from something completely different. He felt that sudden urge to be in the detective's arms again. One could say he was dependent, but he did have an online career of sorts as a YouTube personality. He did make some money off of it, though he knew he would need a second job soon. He didn't completely rely on Saihara. 

Well, it seemed he did for the most part as he sank to the bathroom floor.

_The sweater smells like his cologne..._

Ouma huddled himself, knees to his chin as he sat there. Saihara had only been gone for an hour, so why did he crave him so badly? Was this a bad thing? 

He just needed to get his mind on something else.

He got another glimpse of his arm. Another distraction. He wanted to pick at the old scabs badly, like he had so many times. He just needed to rid himself of the urge. The urge to let everything go. 

Maybe that's why he wanted Saihara here. Because he knew that his boyfriend would stop him. 

Yet, with no Saihara to stop him and no classes to attend, he started scratching at the old, maroon scabs littering his arms. He felt a stinging pain whenever he would bring his nails over until he finally drew blood.

An immense wave of regret washed over Ouma as he watched the small drops of blood run down his arm. 

"Idiot..." He muttered to himself, turning the tap back on again. The cold water stung even more against the recently opened wounds. He would also need to somehow hide this. Saihara would be disappointed if he saw his boyfriend in this state.

Afterwards, Ouma retreated back under the covers. After all, he could just sleep it off. 

He could just sleep it off, right?


End file.
